


Backdraft

by Progman



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - The Ultimatum, F/F, F/M, Gen, Plot First; Romance Third
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Progman/pseuds/Progman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Bloodbending is far older than most historians would like to believe.  It is a technique that has been endlessly discovered and rediscovered over countless centuries. In most cases, development of the skill is an act of true desperation.  Active practitioners are driven to madness, and inevitably their own ruin, as they are either struck down by themselves or those around them." </p><p>Just a slip, that was all it took.  A second too late; she couldn't see his dark blue tunic as he fell from the peak.  It was black against black.  Too dark.  When the clouds shifted, revealing the full moon, Kuvira knew it was over.  </p><p>The Red Lotus fell, but the Avatar fell further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Western Air Temple

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for over a month now. It's not going to be very long, relatively, as I'm trying to tell a very focused and tight story here.
> 
> Beta'd by thejmpr.

The air of the Western Air Temple had always smelled cleaner than most other air, and Bolin wasn’t sure why that was. Maybe it was all the heat. Maybe it was because everything was upside down and all the gross smells were somehow on the ceiling. Or was it the floor? The one he _wasn’t_ standing on.

 _“So, Avatar Korra, what can you tell us about your new initiative? There’s been a lot of rumors, but not much meat to ‘em. I don’t even know what it’s called!”_ commentated Shiro Shinobi, his voice not quite as cheery as it used to be.

_“Well, there’s a lot I’d like to say, but not much I’m able to divulge. You understand.”_

_“Of course. How ‘bout a name?”_

_“That I can actually give you. The Unity Defense Program.”_

_“Fancy!”_

Bolin looked up at the inverted architecture and followed the contours toward the center of the temple. He’d gotten lost one too many times in the short while he’d been assigned ‘official Avatar guard duty’. Not that he was guarding the Avatar, that’d be weird. No, he was guarding things that the Avatar needed protecting.

The New Air Nation. Well, what was left of it.

Bolin rubbed his wedding ring with his thumb. Equal parts silver and platinum. Integrity and greatness. The inscription read the same, with little love thrown in. Just to be safe.

_“My wife of ten years, Asami Sato, can’t even believe it’s been that that long, came up with a brilliant new way to supplement to our existing correctional system. I can promise you, right here and now, that it’s going to save millions of yuans, if not millions of lives.”_

_“Wow! If that isn’t a good sign, then I don’t know what is! Got a good feeling that the next thing you’ll announce is lower taxes!”_

_“That’s...not really up to me, Shiro.”_

_“You sure? Coulda sworn the Avatar had that kind of power.”_

He checked his watch. It was a nice place to live and protect. Of course, it wasn’t just him alone. The White Lotus were a constant presence as well. Membership had gone up in the past few years, so some of the best benders and non-benders in the world were members all over again. Or so Korra had told him. He really needed to read up on his history.

_“I’m not saying I couldn’t, but I have more important things to deal with. Oh, but I can announce that capital punishment should be discontinued within the next few months or so. Once this new system is in place, it will be completely unnecessary.”_

_“I think that’s gonna make a lot of our folks listening at home very happy, Avatar Korra.”_

_“Good. It’s inherently barbaric, but I think most would agree, at times, necessary.”_

_“No arguments here!”_

Bolin passed a patrol of sentries with a wave and smile. They returned the gesture and one of them even struck a pose that was distinctly ‘Nuktuk’. He laughed and copied the fan so that they were flexing side by side. Which, of course, tore his jacket.

“What?” Bolin huffed and looked at his shredded sleeves. “Not again. Sorry guys, but I guess I gotta go change.”

Bolin trotted off and walked into the temple proper. He stuck his hands in his pockets and brushed his thumb against the ring as he passed the massive inverted archway. The dormitories for the White Lotus were on the other side of the compound, but thankfully Korra hadn’t seen a problem with him sharing a room with his wife. Why would she? They were married!

_“I’d be surprised if there were, Shiro. Now, on to less important manners. The 185 Probending Season. I’m partial to the Future Industries Fire Ferrets, but everyone knows that. What about you? Who are you rooting for this year?”_

_“It’s gotta be the Ba Sing Se Badgermoles. They’ve got a fresh new earthbender this year and I think she’s got what it takes to get them to the top!”_

_“Should be an exciting season, then! You know I heard they might be reinstating the Wolfbats? Tahno as well.”_

Bolin rolled his eyes and knocked on Opal’s door. Yay. Wolfbats. He adjusted his collar and winked at the four sentries posted outside dormitory. Always lookin’ good, no matter the occasion. “Hey, hon? I tore my sleeves again. Need to grab another jacket.”

Opal opened the door and looked up at him blankly for a moment. Her eyes lit up as she poked the large holes in his top. “Wow, you really did a number on this one. Didn’t you?”

“Yeahhh…” he said, scratching the back of his head with a goofy grin. “Just something that happens when you’re married to Nuktuk.”

Opal smiled sadly and pulled him inside. She locked the door behind them and inspected her ring. “Damnit. I am so sick of her stupid ‘fireside chats’. Pretty sure I’ve heard this one over a hundred times by now. Never any music on the radio anymore...” she whispered. She grimaced, dug through their drawers, found his spare jacket and tossed it to him. “Careful, now. This one’s a little heavier than the last one. I don’t want you getting dehydrated if you get too hot in it.”

_“Can’t say I’m a fan of that ruling.”_

_“Neither can I, but I’ve made sure to remind him of the consequences if he were to cheat again. It makes a mockery of the sport, if you ask me.”_

Bolin switched jackets and smiled wide. “Think that might be a problem, since I’m already so…” He trailed off as he patted the sides of his jacket. They were quite a bit heavier than normal. Bolin raised his brows, but only slightly. “You know what? It’s perfect.”

“I thought it might be.”

Bolin checked his watch and then, once again, his ring. His heart skipped a beat. The inscription had changed. Instead of a loving message, it displayed only a single character.

十

Ten.

Opal pulled him down for a passionate and all-too-brief kiss. “I love you,” she whispered, gripping his hands so tightly that he lost circulation. Not that he minded.

Bolin narrowed his eyes and dropped all of the warmth he’d been holding on to for the past week. He took a deep breath and unlocked the door. “I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

Kuvira kept her breath slow, calm and steady. Focus. She brushed her bare palm along the smooth stone wall of her hastily earthbent tunnel. The earth could see more than she ever could, and it only shared its knowledge with those who had mastered it. Mastered control, mastered neutrality. Waiting, and listening for the earth to speak.

She let the jagged, ornate architecture of the structures beyond the wall guide her senses. Four fully armed airships, two hundred sentries, fifty two members of the Air Nation and, most importantly, no Avatar.

Then, mercifully, she found the two small bits of silver and blindness she had been searching for. She planted her feet further into the ground and meticulously curled her fingers, bending the silver impurities to manipulate the platinum.

Kuvira opened her eyes to the flare lit tunnel. She looked back at her team, a dozen warriors hardened after a decade of service, benders and non-benders alike and gave them a thumbs up.

One of her earthbenders pressed himself against the stone wall beside her and mirrored her stance. She held up five fingers. Four. Three. Two. One. In tandem, the two of them opened a perfectly smooth hole in the wall, revealing the inverted and confusing architecture of the Western Air Temple.

Light burst into the tunnel, washing over her and those beside her. She motioned for them to advance, and two by two they left through the hole. She checked her watch as she walked into the temple herself. They were right on schedule.

Kuvira looked across the hall and made eye contact with Bolin and Opal, who were chatting up four of the sentries with some old ‘war stories’. She reached out to her metal strips and bent them razor sharp.

“...so we’re flying through the air, right? Hundreds of feet up, and look at me. Earthbender. I was scared out of my mind, but I knew we’d be okay because I had my big bro strapped on the other side of the plane, and Asami Sato, best pilot in the world, was the one in the cockpit. So we swoop down, dodging thousands, and I’m not even kidding here, thousands of giant icicles.” He waved his arms around. “Mako sets the whole thing on fire, and I mean really on fire not the stuff you see in probending, and I’m slinging earth disks packed with plastic explosives. We fly back up, I click the detonator and---” He clapped his hands together and a series of deafening explosions echoed throughout the temple, rattling the very foundation and dislodging centuries old dust and rock.

Kuvira flicked out her hands, metalbending her blades into the back of two guard’s heads. Bolin snapped the neck of the third while Opal stopped the fourth from calling for help by asphyxiating him in a manner she truly wished she didn’t have to see. Past the edge of the temple, she spotted two airships falling out of the sky, their engines burning and smoldering as they spiraled down into the blackening fog.

_“Any plans for your next initiative, Avatar Korra?”_

_“Well, nothing’s been set in stone; you never know what might come up. But at the moment, my wife and I are planning to take a well deserved vacation in the Ember Islands. I won’t be gone too long so there’s no reason to worry.”_

Opal shot Kuvira a hard look. “Took you long enough.”

“If I could have gotten here sooner, I would have.” She turned her attention to her brother-in-law. “Bolin.”

Bolin frowned and looked up at the hanging buildings. What was once a gaze of wonder and joy had been battered down into one of regret and exhaustion. He cracked his knuckles. “Five minutes, right?”

“Five minutes.”

 

* * *

 

Jinora’s eyes shot open as her spirit was pulled back into the material world. She held her meditative posture, as instructed, and slowly looked around the room. The White Lotus were in a frenzy, barking orders at one another and trying desperately to discern who was actually in charge at the moment, since most of their leadership had been present on the airships.

_“But enough about me. How have you been doing, Shiro?”_

_“Oh, you know. Commentating and enjoying life day by day. Not everybody gets to be the Avatar’s personal interviewer!”_

_“Very true. And how is Mrs. Shinobi?”_

_“She’s waitin’ back home with a nice hot cup of tea and warm smile.”_

The airbenders and acolytes around her sat as still as they could, but they shook. They shuddered, all of them huddling close to another in fear of what was to come. She offered them a kind smile and looked over at her sister. Ikki, somehow, didn’t seem at all bothered. Mostly impatient. And Meelo looked...bored.

How they were related, she had yet to understand.

_“That’s wonderful, Shiro. You must love her very much.”_

_“That I do, Avatar Korra. That I do.”_

Jinora took a small breath and channeled her inner spirit, reaching out to the energy surrounding her and wading through. She focused on a familiar connection and projected herself in front of Opal and Kuvira. “They’re disorganized. Go.” She drew her spirit back into her body and felt a wave of calm flow over her.

The doors to the meditation chamber exploded open and, in a manner of seconds, every single sentry in the room was dead. Metal blades cut through the air and straight through their throats. Their hands grasped helplessly at their neck as the rest of them were struck down with a combination of lightning strikes and brutal hand-to-hand.

Blood pooled on the ground and Jinora spun to her feet, refusing to shy away from the massacre. There were no other options, but witnessing another mass killing at an Air Temple felt wrong in so many ways. In her lineage, her culture, and deep within her spirit.

Jinora looked over at her friends and family.  She forced her expression to remain calm and composed. Fear was okay, but only if one accepted and moved through it. “It’s time to go. Gather everything you possibly can and don’t look back. No matter what happens, keep moving.”

The Air Nation didn’t hesitate, much to her relief. They ran around the room in a controlled panic, uprooting false wooden panels and passing off crate after crate of irreplaceable culture. Artifacts, centuries old scrolls, ancient blueprints of the temple itself. The Air Nation had been all but destroyed once, but they had rebuilt themselves. They could do it again.

Kuvira broke away from her infiltration team and made a series of gestures to them. Half of them sprinted out of the room, while the rest rushed to assist the airbenders and acolytes with their desperate attempt to salvage what they could. “Is this everyone?”

Jinora nodded and picked up the crate she’d packed herself. It was heavier than most, but also the most important. “We couldn’t save everything.”

Kuvira frowned. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I just hope this was worth it.”

“It is. I know it.”

“At least one of us does.”

 

* * *

 

Bolin slammed a lavadisk into another two sentries as they advanced, hurtling the off of the temple and to certain death. That made twenty. Ugh. His stomach lurched and he covered his mouth. It had been a stroke of genius to sew two earthdisks into the lining of his jacket. He’d have to thank Opal for that later, even it made it much easier to kill people.

_“I think that’s all the time I have for now, so I really must be going. The world can’t save itself, after all!”_

_“That was another exciting edition of ‘Avatar Korra’s Fireside Chat’, our weekly conversation with the Avatar. Until next time, this is Shiro Shinobi, signing off.”_

“Bolin!” barked Kuvira. She and Jinora quickly made their way into the tunnel behind the rest of the airbenders and acolytes, carrying several large, overflowing boxes. “Thirty seconds!”

Bolin nodded and took a deep breath. He planted his feet and turned them outward, tapping into the natural, latent energy of the earth. It was the only way to tie up all the loose ends, and it had to be him that did it. Dozens of sentries formed up at the entrance, yelling and readying fire, water, lightning and metal. He drowned them out and grasped on to every part of the temple’s foundation he could find.

The ancient stone cracked and splintered as it grew an unhealthy orange glow. Lava flowed and seeped out of the walls from every direction, melting everything that stood in its way. He collapsed the ceiling above the sentries, burying their screams under an avalanche of lava. He backpedaled, lavabending every inch of earth he could find as he neared the tunnel. The moment his feet were safely inside, he roared and destroyed what little was left of the foundation.

“How was that?” he asked. Bolin took several deep breathes and wiped sweat off his brow. He felt like vomiting, but he’d have to wait until later. Not until they were safe could he let go.

“Perfect,” said Kuvira. She stared down the seemingly endless, road flare lit tunnel, the rest of the infiltration team and the remnants of the Air Nation having gotten a decent head start. “We need to catch up or we’ll be left behind.”

Bolin sighed and took one look back at the growing glow behind him. All of the lava he’d made would cover their escape and collapse the tunnel. There would be nothing left by the time reinforcements arrived. And that was his job.

Clean up.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Kuvira sprinted alongside the airbenders and acolytes, her boots just barely skimming the smoothly bent tunnel. She’d been running the route for months, earthbending the tunnel and collapsing as often as she could...it was almost a blur to her at this point. All for preparation.

She did another headcount. Fifty two, and not a single casualty on her side. So far so good.

Beams of bright, shaky red light flashed over them, the flares that her team were carrying rattling up and down as they ran. Flashlights could break. Batteries could die. Flares could not, unless they wanted them to.

The tunnel was uniform stone for five miles straight. Perfectly level and even throughout. Everyone in her party was in perfect shape, of course, but it was often the little things, the tiny details, that made all the difference in these kinds of situations.

When mistakes meant death, one needed to create breathing room.

As they approached the end of the tunnel she slid to a stop, digging her boots into the ground in sync with Bolin. They worked together to tear open the wall, revealing a large, empty and round room. Two of her soldiers tossed road flares into the darkened room, lighting it up in an eerie red.

The Air Nation didn’t miss a beat and filed out of the cramped tunnel, all fifty two of them, and not a missing box among them. Kuvira waited for her team to pass before hopping into the room herself. She sealed the tunnel behind her and took a few deep breathes. One step closer. Just a little longer and they’d be okay.

They’d make it. They would. They had to, so they would.

Kuvira checked her watch and gestured for her team to take up positions along the wall of the circular chamber. “All right! We’re going to be dropping around forty stories to the next tunnel.”

Jinora glared at her. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

Bolin’s brows vanished into his hairline. “It wasn’t?”

Kuvira frowned. “Think of it like an elevator,” she said, bracing herself against the massive rock wall. Kuvira cleared her mind and steadied her breath, once again letting the earth guide her. Smooth, perfectly carved. One slip, one jagged edge and the cavern would collapse.

Falling was failure.

She grasped onto the edge of the room, her portion of the rounded wall, and, in perfect, practiced parallel with her team, slowly lowered the room like one would slide down a rope. Down and down, but with just enough friction to remain in control.

The earth slid around them, giving way to their combined will with minimal resistance. Crack. Kuvira felt it before she heard it. A tiny splinter, but growing faster and faster from the center of the room. “Bolin! The center!” she yelled, her voice betraying the smallest hint of panic.

“I got it!” Bolin barreled into the center of the clumped Air Nation, knocking most of them over along with their boxes full of culture, He slammed his palms into the earth, quickly sealing the deadly breach and holding it in place. “Sorry. You guys okay?” he said, glancing around at the displaced airbenders and acolytes with a sympathetic frown.

“They’re fine. We’re all fine,” said Kuvira, closing her eyes and hoping against hope that she was right. “We’re almost there, so just hold that a little longer.” She searched through the stone, listening for some sign, anything, to tell her that they’d arrived. Her internal clock wasn’t wrong, it never was, but there was nothing there. No gaps in the earth. No shell of obscured blindness that screamed steel and platinum. Had they left? Damnit, where were---

There.

“We’re here!” she yelled, elated. She worked together with her team to slow their makeshift elevator to a careful stop. They held it in place for a few moments to confirm that it would indeed stay. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck as she gently released her hold on the earth.

Kuvira took a very deep breath as she backed away, glancing between her team members to confirm that everything was in order. Good. She gestured for her team to stay by the walls, just in case something went wrong. Not much further. Just one more. One more step, that was it. Then, she could rest.

They all could.

Kuvira closed her eyes and extended her reach far beyond the stone in front of her. She grasped on to the outer edge and pulled it apart with everything she had. Slowly, the wall split in half, leaking bright white light into the room. With one last push, she roared and opened the wall completely.

And there it was; the 10:15 Express. Right on time.

The compact magnet train sat stalwart at the other end of the tunnel, its platinum shell gleaming triumphantly in the warm blue glow of its outer lights.

The Air Nation, and Bolin, sprinted past her as she caught her breath, bumping her shoulders a few times, but not quite enough to knock her off balance. The earth elevator hadn’t been a new idea, or even a new technique, but on that scale...that was new.

And it had _worked_.

Kuvira sighed and began walking toward the train, but stopped once she saw that one of the crates had been left behind. It was cracked open and little trinkets and scrolls were scattered around it. She knelt down and carefully repacked the crate, ensuring that each and every piece of a once dead culture kept its integrity. The last piece was a little ways away, so she metalbent it into her hand.

A golden locket, half ajar. She flipped it open and her blood went cold.

Let go your earthly tether.

_Just a slip, that was all it took._

Enter the Void.

_A second too late; she couldn't see his dark blue tunic as he fell from the peak. It was black against black. Too dark._

Empty, and become wind.

_When the clouds shifted, revealing the full moon, Kuvira knew it was over._

Kuvira shuddered and instinctively reached out to the metal with every intention of crushing it, but stopped herself. It was still an artifact. It was still part of their culture. It was their decision whether or not to destroy it. She slipped it into her pocket and grimaced.

Focus.

She carried the final crate over to the train and entered the cargo hold. It was buzzing with controlled chaos; her people working side by side with the Air Nation to secure their irreplaceables. Bolin, clearly on autopilot, took the crate from her and tied it down to the floor in a manner of seconds.

Kuvira blinked and went to work doing the same, organizing the several dozen oddly shaped crates by importance and fragility. With the Air Nation, everything was important and fragile, so it wasn’t the simplest of things. Scrolls and other written works at the bottom. Artifacts and trinkets in the middle. Gliders and tools at the top. They could always make more of those.

She reached out to the metal cables and tested their tensile strength and integrity. Not a common practice, but something important all the same. Strong, immaculate, that one needed a little correction… It was monotonous work, but then that was what made it calming.

Kuvira took a step back and took stock of the hold. Forty seven boxes, and one locket on her person. She walked across the first hold and into the second, smiling slightly at the sight of, again, fifty two members of the Air Nation cramped into the train car. It wasn’t ideal, and they didn’t look comfortable, but, for the moment, they were safe. And that was what mattered most.

“Jinora,” she said, crossing her arms. She cocked her head back toward the first hold and walked back into it. She turned around once the door slid open and closed behind her a second time.

“Another problem?” asked Jinora.

“No.” With a heavy sigh, she fished into her pocket and held up the locket. “What do you want to do with---”

Jinora’s eyes widened in rage. “Destroy it.”

“Are you sure? It’s still---”

“That is _not_ a part of us. Destroy it,” she growled, stomping back to the rest of her people. While it wasn’t possible to slam a sliding door, Kuvira certainly felt like Jinora had found a way.

Kuvira crushed the locket, twisting and contorting it at its very core. She placed the worthless chunk of gold into her pocket and began marching to the other end of the train, passing her team’s own car on the way. They were silent and still very much tense, she knew. It was not a victory until they were home.

She approached the engineer’s cabin and smiled sadly as she saw Opal and Baatar. Opal was bawling and Baatar wasn’t quite so composed either. Kuvira stood to the side of the door and gave them a moment of much needed peace.

Kuvira dug into her pocket and glared at horrific gold chunk. It had stood for freedom once, millennia ago. At that point, though, in the modern era, there was nothing about it that she could associate with freedom. Only terror and destruction. 

The doors slid open and she quickly pocketed the golden chunk. Opal walked out, her eyes red and puffy. She perked up as she spotted Kuvira. 

“Oh! Hey.” She frowned. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We still have a long ways to go,” she said, knocking her knuckles against the door. The train slowly began to move forward, slowly gaining speed as it went.

“Okay.” Opal nodded. “About that, actually. How are we supposed to cross the Mo Ce sea?”

“Simple. Underwater train tunnel.”

 

* * *

 

Opal squinted as the magnet train approached the light at the end of the tunnel. Once it passed the threshold and into the open air, the light was simply too much for her unadjusted eyes. She clenched them shut and shielded them with her forearm. As she felt the train slow to a stop, she hesitantly opened her eyes.

What she saw nearly gave her a heart attack.

Zaofu. She saw _Zaofu_. Metal on metal, twisting and curving to form the most breathtaking architecture in the world. Pristine and untouched. Steel and platinum molded together in one massive dome, protecting them from the horrors outside of the gates. And that was when it hit her. The light that had blinded her wasn’t the sun, but rather a series of hundreds of oversized flood lights bolted to the roof of the dome.

Just one dome.

They were underground, they had to be. Hundreds and hundreds of feet underground. Smoke stacks stretched as high as the bunker would allow, the black smog of industry being sucked into oversized vents. She looked around, wide eyed with wonder, and saw airbenders flying freely through the air. Their gliders soared, and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

Kuvira rested a hand on her shoulder and smiled sadly. “Welcome home, Opal.”

 

* * *

 

Avatar Korra stood on the cliffside overlooking the remains of the Western Air Temple, the loose rubble scuffing her leather boots. The once beautiful and perfectly unique bastion utterly destroyed. The _last_ Air Temple. The very same that had once housed Avatar Aang and his companions near the end of the Hundred Year War. All of that beauty, all of that history, culture and magnificence reduced to an oozing, rancid lava flow.

There was _nothing_ left.

She balled her gloved hands into fists and turned away from the destruction, her braided hair flipping over her shoulder. It was too bright to see with the sun still up. Too bright to process the sheer magnitude of loss. Jinora was dead. Ikki was dead. Meelo was dead. Bolin and Opal were dead.

Too bright. Too bright. Too bright.

Asami was crying. She was crying and Korra couldn’t do a _damn thing to stop it_. Screeching, bawling, torturous pain in her ears that felt like bleeding. It was sickening to the point of madness. She wanted...she needed to---she pinched the bridge of her nose and flashed her teeth.

Korra spun towards the Grand Lotus, an old fat man whose throat she should have torn out years prior when he’d suggested that the Air Temples be _left alone and in peace._ Oh, what a wonderful idea that was! She stomped over to him and grabbed his windpipe before he could scream or run or do anything else that could fuck everything up.

He choked and struggled, but Korra just glared at him. “How did this happen?! This was the most secure and remote location on the entire fucking planet!” she snarled, letting up on her grip just enough for him to breath. “Explain yourself!”

“The Red Lotus---”

Korra resumed choking him and smacked his face with her free hand. “That’s not what I asked you! How. Did. This. _Happen?!_ ” She growled and her eyes twitched wildly, tears dripping down her cheeks. “You had _one_ job. One fucking job and you couldn’t even do that. I gave you everything. Every tool. Every resource I could find and _they’re still dead!_ ”

Asami stepped beside her and dried her eyes. “We don’t know that for sure.”

Korra bit her lip and tossed the man to the ground. “You said the same thing about the Southern temple, and the Eastern temple. And the _Northern_ Air Temple. Even Air Temple Island. Look, play optimist all you want, Asami…” She stabbed her finger at the boiling flow of lava below them. “Everyone down there is _dead_. I can’t feel anyone. Nobody. Not a single body. Maybe, _maybe_ the airbenders from the other temples were kidnapped and brainwashed. I am willing to entertain that possibility if only because the alternative makes me want to---” She clutched her head and took several deep breaths. “I can’t…”

“I know.”

“Turn around.”

“You know I won’t do that, Korra.”

Korra considered _forcing_ \---no. No. No, calm down. There are lines. There are things you _don’t_ do. Rage is energy. Energy can be redirected. She focused her bloodshot eyes on the Grand Lotus, that pathetic piece of human garbage, and looked past his skin. Once she knew what to look for, how to find them, how it all worked together, veins and arteries weren’t so difficult to manipulate.

Amazing how much practical knowledge one could find in medical texts when you’ve no other option.

Korra twisted the man on the ground, eliciting a desperate call for mercy that no one would ever answer. She folded her hands behind her back and glared at him, her eyes shaking in a frenzy as he was brought back up to standing, organs and meat resisting in every manner possible. And that only made things much more painful.

She focused on the pockets of blood inside his skull. One by one, two by two, four by eight by fifty. Pop. Pop. The Grand Lotus seemed to realize what she was doing and began bawling like a lost child. He tried to close his eyes, but she forced them open.

Neither blinked, even after his tears turned to blood, blinding him. Then, he screamed as she expanded her rage. She shredded the rest, starting with his vocal chords. Blood seeped out of every part of his face. Ears, eyes, nose, gums, lips, tongue. It all flowed down his scruffy, disgusting beard and stained his dark blue robe a deep black.

“Korra. That’s enough. We still have Rohan. It’s not over.”

Korra snapped out of her...ministrations and crushed the man’s heart, ending his suffering. Too soon, for her tastes, but if...if Asami thought it was enough, then it was. Probably---no, it _was_. She knew when to stop. That’s what she’d said. She’d stop her. When she---Korra rubbed her temples.

They still had Rohan. The Last Airbender. The cruel irony of that statement made her sick. Her stomach festered and she roared, setting the Grand Lotus’ corpse ablaze with flames that licked blue at their peak.  She breathed and looked back at the remains of the temple, searing the image into her mind as another source of fire.

“Yes. You’re right. It’s not over. Not yet.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Savvy and/or observant readers who are familiar with one of my other works, "Repairs, Retrofits and Upgrades", may recognize that this is the same 'reality' that Asami hallucinated in the Foggy Swamp during Chapter 11. Which is ironic, because this story is canon divergent after 3x11. It's not necessary to read that to understand this story, but there are A LOT of interesting connections to be made, so it might just be worth your time.
> 
> I'm treating this as a writing exercise in minimalist world building. That is, writing this in such a way so that the reader can reasonably come to the correct conclusion on 'what went down', 'what changed' and the reasoning behind it all. There is a metric fuckton of exposition and implied 'butterfly effect' in this chapter, and I'm very curious to see what people caught. Also, this story probably won't be that funny. There will be a few jokes here and there, but this really isn't my typical thing. Which is sort of the goal. See what I can do without relying on my typical brand of humor.
> 
> Oh, and don't worry about RRaU updates. I'm taking a page out of Blueraith's playbook and combating burnout, not that I'm close, and brain-clog by switching between two fics so I can get excited about the one I'm not writing while I write the other one. 
> 
> Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. No matter how random, rambling, small, scathing, or emotionally-charged your thoughts may be, I'd love to hear 'em.


	2. Under the Wire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No rest for the wicked. No rest for the noble.

Hiroshi flicked open his pocket watch and smirked. The 10:15 Express had made it back home in perfect time, just as planned. As it should have. Two Beifong engineers, himself and Varrick could not create anything less than perfection. Anything less was failure.

He looked out the window and watched the passengers leave the train down in the city, if one could even call it that, several stories below him. Standard greeting; one they'd done four times prior. Dormitories in that direction, mess in the other.

And only one rule: No one enters. No one leaves.

With the exception of sanctioned operations, of course.

"Say what you will about Kuvira," whistled Varrick. "But that is one woman who keeps to her timetables!" He took the wingspan measurement of the mannequin in the center of their shared workshop, his beady blue eyes skittering along the contours of the model as if it were a toy. "And no, that's not an invitation for you to start babbling your 'opinions', Sato." Varrick rolled his eyes and gave the plaster face a smack on the cheek. "Get enough of that at home when I'm debating with myself, thank you very much," he grumbled.

"You should be focusing on the matter at hand. Not bickering with yourself. If you have time to argue, you have time to work." Hiroshi narrowed his eyes as he spotted Opal stepping off of the platform. "How long until the suit is ready?"

"How should I know? I'm no fortune teller."

"You said you could handle this."

"And I keep telling you that it's not an exact science! You're asking me to circumvent how the body does its thing!" He threw his arms up dramatically. "Sixth chakra! Seventh chakra! All of 'em, sure why not? I'm all for doing the impossible, but you've gotta give me time to  _actually do that."_

Hiroshi glared at him. "It is  _not_ impossible."

"I agree with you. Stop acting like I don't!" he barked, leaning forward with his hands on his hips.

Baatar Senior sighed and looked up from his blueprints. "Varrick, please try to calm down. Just give Hiroshi a decent estimate."

"Fine! A week. Probably." He gave the mannequin a once over. "Give or take a few days. I'll have it done in time, that's a promise."

"Good," said Hiroshi. He raised a brow as Kuvira's mentor approached the platform, her battered platinum prosthetic barely glinting off the floodlights. "...and make preparations for a second."

"Spare?"

Hiroshi stroked his beard. "Hopefully not."

 

* * *

 

Kuvira sat on one of the train's empty shipping crates and peeled off her sweaty, form-fitting black gi. 'New Zaofu' was always insufferably hot. Very little air circulation and massive inefficient lighting at almost all hours of the day had that effect. She folded her clothes in front of her, leaving her in a much more breathable pale green tank top and pants. She set the gi aside and brushed her sticky hair out of her face.

She could breathe. They'd made it back.

Baatar sat down beside her and looked out over the disembarking airbenders. "Shower or sleep?"

"Both, preferably at the same time."

"If I prop you up, I can make that happen."

Kuvira snorted gave him a sidelong glance. "And how would you be propping me up, exactly?"

Baatar shrugged. "However you'd want me to."

"Mhmm." Kuvira closed her eyes and lolled her head on to his shoulder. She sifted through the earth and metal around her, attuning herself to its shape. She could feel the entire bunker, easily. Everyone and everything. "We should have-" The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she sensed a familiar silhouette. Approaching very, very quickly. Tall, powerful, and a right arm made of blindness. She snapped her eyes open and found herself already nose-to-nose with her old master's dark amber eyes. "Nilani."

"Kuvira. Baatar." grunted Nilani, gesturing dismissively with her metallic prosthesis. Grey streaks, matching her battered prosthetic, spanned the length of her short, dark brown hair. The old master frowned at Kuvira, which only enunciated the deep, faded scars that covered her face and traveled well below her neck. "Arena. Ten minutes."

Baatar raised a brow. "She  _just_ got back."

"He's right. I'm exhausted."

"You shouldn't be tired at all. Whatever it is that you did out there was sloppy and inefficient." She jabbed her sternum with her metal hand.

Kuvira frowned. "I am neither sloppy nor inefficient."

"Really." Nilani grabbed her by the jaw. "You didn't even  _feel_ me until I was this close. I have no idea how you managed to regress this much so quickly, but I'm not going to stand for it." She pulled her off of the crate and on to the cold metal floor. "So we're going to run through it again.  _All of it."_

Kuvira picked herself up off of the ground and gave Baatar a look of reassurance. There was some truth to all of that. She had stumbled in a few moments, which was utterly unacceptable. "Very well." She rubbed her jaw. "Though my team is just as exhausted as I am."

"I'm well aware. You won't be facing them."

"Then who?"

"The flayer herself." Nilani turned to Baatar. "Opal."

Baatar scowled. "That's nothing more than a baseless rumor."

"Since when have we had time for rumors?"

 

* * *

 

Opal stayed toward the back of the crowd of airbenders, keeping pace with Bolin, who was looking paler by the second. She really hoped it was the heat that was getting to him, and not the rather...eventful time they were having.

Ryu, whom she  _swore_ she heard had died years ago, rambled off at the front of the group, giving monotone directions and a general layout of the dome. "...and over here is where tons of soldiers train to do stuff. Some of you may notice that it looks like an Earth Rumble stadium. If you did, you have a good eye, because it's supposed to look like that..."

Bolin clutched his stomach and covered his mouth. He hopped back and forth on the balls of his feet, searched frantically around them, and sprinted into one of the public bathrooms. Which Ryu had neglected to cover on his guided tour, somehow.

Opal followed behind him and winced as he emptied his stomach into the toilet. She knelt down beside him and rubbed his back. "Shhh, it's all right. Let it out; it's just stress. And the heat."

"It's not that simple." Bolin shook his head and rose to wash his face at the sink. "Mako thinks I'm dead, and I can't tell him I'm not. I can't tell him that we're all okay. That what we're doing is good, or why what we're doing is good, or why he can't help us!" He sighed. "What are we even  _doing,_ Opal?"

Opal frowned and pulled him into a tight hug. "What we have to. Nothing more, nothing less. And if that means hiding until everything is said and done, that's what we'll do." She grabbed towel and soaked it in the sink. "For the time being, let's try and focus on where we are now, okay?"

"Okay." He tried to smile. It looked forced. "Thanks."

"Always." Opal handed him the hot, wet towel.

"Do you want me to..." He pointed to his forehead, and then to the painted arrow on hers.

"No, but it's just another thing that we have to do.  Wipe it off."

 

* * *

 

Kuvira hopped back and forth on the balls of her feet, inviting the smallest vibrations to flow over her and grant her new awareness. Of herself, of those around her. Of everything really. Sight without seeing needed to stay as natural as breathing. It was a technique she'd mastered years prior, but with everything that was at stake...more practice wouldn't hurt. Besides, it helped clear her head.

A clouded mind was one that faltered. Foggy glass; imperfections.

She maneuvered herself around the ample training arena, which closely resembled the old Earth Rumble stages of old, in wide arcs, her feet barely scuffing the ground, mirroring Opal's movements. Never quite touching the edge, but not the center either. Focus on the center; the focal point. Force them to move by reaction to your own, not of their own volition.

Ignore the distracting argument between Hiroshi, Nilani and Baatar in the stands.

Falling was failing.

"All right, on the next switch, remember to lead with your feet  _and_ your shoulders. Not your hips," said Opal, effortlessly transitioning from one airbending form to the next. "I think that's where the issue is."

Kuvira nodded and did as she was told, spiraling with equal pressure on her feet and shoulders. It worked flawlessly and she instantly felt much lighter on her feet. Amazing how such a small change could affect so much. "You were right. That's far more efficient. Thank you."

"It's not about efficiency. It's about letting the air guide-" She rolled her eyes. "Oh, what does it matter? You're not an airbender."

"And you're no master, so you have no obligation to-"

"Yes I am," she snapped. "Just because I don't have tattoos doesn't mean I'm not a master airbender. Do  _you_ have tattoos saying you're a master metalbender? Or an earthbender? No, you don't."

Kuvira stopped in her tracks and looked on her with concern. "No, I don't. Sorry, that didn't come out quite right." She frowned sympathetically. "I meant in that you're not an instructor, not to diminish your skill."

"I know, I know..." Opal sighed and looked into the slowly filling bleachers. "I'm just a little on edge. This isn't an easy transition. I mean..." She chuckled dryly. "We're literally standing in a mass grave for Zaofu.  _The_ mass grave."

"And yet there were no bodies to bury," she said flatly.

"That's...right. There weren't." Opal furrowed her brows and approached Kuvira. She took a look around the entire arena, scoffing in disbelief. "I knew mom thought ahead, but this is crazy."

Kuvira fiddled with her arm bindings. "Paranoia does not equate foresight."

"Well, maybe not, but you have to admit there's quite a bit of overlap."

"Fair point..." She straightened her posture as she felt Nilani slide down the stands and land on the stage behind her. "Something you need?"

Nilani looked between the two of them. "Your attention. Both of you. Here's how this is going to go. Flayer---"

Opal bristled. "Don't you dare call me that."

" _Flayer._ " She glared at Opal violently. "Good. Bunker needs some entertainment, or everyone goes crazy and tries to kill each other from the heat and close quarters."

"Oh, so instead of three hundred, only  _two_ people try to kill each other?!"

"Yes. That's the fucking point. Now, hush." She turned to Kuvira. "Show it to me."

Kuvira raised a brow. "Show you-"

Nilani narrowed her eyes. "The locket, Kuvira. Show it to me."

Kuvira sighed and fished into her pocket, grabbing what remained of the golden locket and raised it by its mangled ribbon. "It's useless. The knowledge is gone."

Nilani climbed up to the stage and snatched it out of her hand. She held it up to the floodlights of the arena and tapped it into a lazy spin. "That's what they said about bloodbending, and yet here we are." She focused her dark amber eyes on the chunk of gold and it quickly reformed into what it once was. The locket. Flawless inscription and all. "Good as new."

Kuvira set her jaw and averted her gaze, turning her attention to the growing crowd milling about in the bleachers. They'd never been filled before. There were never enough people around.

Nilani lazily tossed the locket to Opal. "She kept it. So, you keep it."

Opal inspected the locket and her knuckles turned white. She ground her teeth and glowered at her. "Is this some kind of sick joke to you? Why would you give me this?!"

"Same reason you haven't just tossed it away."

"What the fuck does that even mean?!"

"Anything it needs to; nothing that it doesn't."

"...just do what she says," said Kuvira. "It's not worth the effort. Trust me."

Opal groaned and begrudgingly pocketed the locket.

"Right, then. Before I forget..." Nilani clapped Kuvira on the back with, thankfully, her good hand.

"Stop circling this stupid stage with Opal like a drunken hogmonkey and kill each other." Nilani tapped her ear and glared at Kuvira. "I don't recall teaching you to wait and _selectively listen."_

Kuvira set her jaw and nodded. "Understood."

"Good. Oh, and that little adjustment the flayer showed you is going to fuck it all up. I tried the same damn thing over a decade ago." Nilani hopped off of the stage and climbed up to her seat beside Hiroshi, her low bun bobbing along with her step. "If you try and pull that shit in this match, you  _will_ die."

Kuvira sighed and made a mental note to strike Opal's suggestion from her muscle memory. "I have to apologize for her behavior. She can be...difficult, at times."

"Yeah, I noticed." Opal bristled and crossed her arms. "Why do you let her boss you around like that? She certainly doesn't respect you. And who the hell does she think she is?! She just came barging in, dragged me out of a nap, and started yapping like she owns the place! Which she doesn't! Technically,  _we_ own this place."

"We do, don't we?" Kuvira chuckled. "She's our resident specialist. By far the best suited for my specific...needs."

"In what? Getting herself killed? Being an ass?"

"She fought the Avatar. And lived."

The starting bell rang and Kuvira barely avoided Opal's opening volley. Air so sharp that it tore her long braid into tatters. Her heart slammed into her chest and, for the briefest of moments, stared at Opal in genuine fear.

She was a master; but in all the wrong ways.

Kuvira regained her composure as she rolled over another arc of razor sharp wind, and earthbent a pillar into Opal's stomach before her own feet touched the ground. Opal stumbled into a back flip, bending her momentum into an aircycle and expertly dodging a few hundred super-dense pebbles.

The crowd cheered. She could tell Baatar was not.

Kuvira rolled her arms and launched herself, along with six arcing streams of sharpened dust, straight toward her. Opal matched each dust stream with air, deflecting the blasts, and spiraled into a whirlwind, knocking Kuvira off course and skidding along the stage. Kuvira dug her fingers into the earth and whipped it forward with a rolling quake.

Which she overdid, just a tad. Since the entire building shook.

Opal lunged to the edge of the stage in another aircycle and used it to cut through Kuvira's repeated attempts at physically blocking her. She tore through rock wall after rock wall, each one thicker and stronger than the last.

And when Opal was right upon her, Kuvira smirked. Without moving a muscle, she reformed the rubble Opal had created behind her into stalagmites and willed them toward Opal's back. Most of them were shattered on impact with the aircycle, but a few got through and sent her flying face first into the floor.

Kuvira slid her feet across the stage and---

"NO! OPAL!" yelled Baatar, barely an inch from her eardrums.

Kuvira spun around in a fright and---wait, he was still up in the stands how---Wind flew past her lips. She couldn't breath. She choked and coughed violently, falling to her knees as she clawed at her throat. Lungs burned. Panicked breathing as air returned to her. Kuvira slowed her breath and looked back over her shoulder.

Opal gestured for her to rise. And winked.  _Winked._ Her mouth moved, but she didn't speak---

"You okay?" she heard Opal say from within her own ear. "All I did was knock the wind out of you, at worst. You've seen me do worse."

Kuvira got back to her feet and cracked her neck. Incredibly impressive. She was...well, she was  _soundbending._ As a form of misdirection. But, as clever as that was, like all sneak attacks, it would only work once. Which was a fatal flaw, in her eyes. "Well played."

"Thanks! Invented it myself."

Kuvira swept her arms and gathered up the debris, shattering the rock and spinning it around her in two interlocking rings. She narrowed her eyes. Nilani wanted more confirmation of her capabilities? Well, then she'd get what she asked for. And far more than that.

 

* * *

 

Hiroshi raised his brows. Kuvira and Opal were all but evenly matched. They continued to trade titanic blow after blow, tearing apart the arena in the process. And the stands. No less than six times had he noticed that the other backed off once victory was all but guaranteed.

Out of respect? Fear of causing true harm? It didn't matter. They didn't move as enemies; circumstantial or otherwise. No, it was just as Nilani had predicted. Or argued, rather. They fought as a team, even when against one another.

Hiroshi steadied himself on the railing as the arena shook once again. "I'll let Varrick know to make another suit to Opal's proportions. They should both be ready within the week."

Nilani huffed and tinkered with her mechanical arm. She stood evenly, her balance unchanged. "And the rest of your little toys?"

" _Equipment,_ and yes. I built spares of each piece, so that won't be an issue."

"Good. Alterations to everything else should be relatively minor." She flexed her prosthetic hand in front of her face. "All on our end, if memory serves." She bit her lip. "I just hope it's enough."

"It will be. It  _has_ to be." He grit his teeth. "We've done everything we possibly can. Kuvira, and soon Opal, understands the enormity of what's at stake. If we fall on the lunar eclipse..."

"...then Bloody Yue gets her fill, I know. Hopefully the Avatar is kind enough to let us know when she starts to slip. A grand, angry radio announcement would be very direct."

Hiroshi gave her a sidelong glance.

"Oh, like her 'Fireside Chats' are really all that different." She scoffed. "History repeats itself, Sato. It always has, and it always will. We just have to wait and listen."

 

* * *

 

Asami's sweat soaked robe clung to her bare skin as she stumbled out of the bedroom. She tossed her sticky, wet hair and walked haltingly down to her estate's kitchen, breathing heavily. She gave Mako a half-wave as she entered the room and poured herself a tall glass of water.

Mako returned the gesture and sneaked a peek at her from behind his newspaper. "You, uh, you look...thoroughly fucked."

Asami held up two fingers and downed her drink in three large gulps. She filled another glass and guzzled it down. "I'm going to need a word more grandiose than 'thoroughly' right now," she said groggily, the muscles in her back, hips, legs and arms still burning. "Overwhelmingly and ludicrously sound far more appropriate at the moment," she sighed, collapsing into the chair across from him. "You know, I once tried to explain the law of diminishing returns to her."

"How'd that work out?"

Asami grimaced. "She tried to invalidate it. With me."

Mako winced and flipped to another page. "Oooh, yeah, I think I remember that one..."

"Right, right, you were there for that. Or, well, around."

"Yeah.  _Around_."

"How long was that, again? Ten hours? Ten and a half?"

Mako shook his head. "Nine hours."

Asami chuckled joylessly and ran her fingers through her hair. She sunk more into her chair and whimpered. "...tag in?"

"Uhm. No. Gonna have to pass on that."

"Please?" she asked, not entirely sure herself if she was kidding or not.

Mako raised a brow. "What part of you thinks that this is a good idea, Asami?"

"The part that is exhausted and genuinely sick of getting so dehydrated that her wife has to be  _very_ creative with waterbending just so she doesn't pass out."

Mako screwed up his face and shivered.

"Relax, I'm kidding."

"Oh---"

"Mostly."

"Eugh. I think I'll just stick to doing my job. Somehow, I feel like being head of security, the nanny, and occasional bodyguard is less dangerous than sex with the Avatar."

Asami looked away and shifted forward in the chair. "In all honesty, it probably is at this point. All that...energy has to vent somehow. See this?" She gestured to her drained and spent body. "This is me. On break."

Mako grinned. "Happy tenth anniversary!"

"Fuck off, Mako," she said, laughing dryly. "Distract me. How was your day?"

Mako shrugged. "Same as ever. Nothing new-oh."He snapped his fingers and looked up at her from his newspaper. "Rohan said something interesting today when I picked him up from school."

"Hm?"

"Apparently, he wants dating advice and came straight to me."

Asami snickered. "You did tell him that you're really not the foremost authority on that, right?"

"Well, yeah, but he was pretty insistent that I help him out. Somebody must've told him about that fling with Wu I had...what, twelve years ago?"

Asami sat up straight and furrowed her brow. "...so what you're saying is..."

"He's got a crush on a boy. I think he said he was from the Fire Nation..."

Asami flattened her lips into a thin line and gave Mako a hard look, one which he returned. "I should go share the good news with Korra. I'm sure she'll be very excited to hear it."

"Yes. I'm sure you're right."

"Right about what?" said Korra,  _appearing_ beside her in a robe of her own. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. Hey Mako."

Mako gulped. "Heeyyyy, Korra."

"What's got you so nervous? And why are you reading the newspaper in the middle of the night?"

"You're half naked, and I missed it this morning."

"...right. Boundaries. Sorry."

Mako shrugged and went back to reading the paper. "Go about your business."

Korra chuckled. "So what are we talking about that's so engrossing?"

Asami smiled. "Rohan's got a crush."

Korra lit up. "He does? Well, took him long enough. What's her---"

"On a boy."

Mako took a sip of his tea. "Who  _might_ be from the Fire Nation. Rohan said that was important for some reason."

Korra's eyes glazed over and her smile returned to nothing. She tightened the knot on her robe and the marble below her feet sunk into the ground. "Really," she seethed. Fire tinted blue licked out from behind her lips. She exhaled and stomped toward the stairs. "I'll be right back."

Asami followed her, grasping on to her forearm. "Korra. Hey, Korra, what are you doing. Talk to me." She stepped in front of her and held her shoulders. "Korra. Don't---"

Korra's eyes burned white. "Move." She pushed Asami aside and into the wall, her body trembling and twitching. She tried, desperately, to climb the stairs, clawing at the carpet, but collapsed half way up. "Don't do this to me, Raava! Don't do this to me you ungrateful piece of shit!" She sobbed violentlly and her eyes flickered back to blue. Blood seeped out of her nose and mouth. "I hate you. I hate you  _so much._ After all I've done for you, every time I need your help you..." She growled. "Fuck."

"Korra, it's okay. It's all right." Asami helped her to her feet. "It wouldn't have worked anyway. You can't bend these kinds of things."

"You don't know that." She pulled at her hair. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about, Raava! I need to do this. The  _world_ needs this!" she yelled, her eyes shaking and unable to sustain the light.

"Korra, there are other ways. Here, look at me." She did. "There are other ways. We'll find one, okay? I promise."

Korra buried her face in her chest and sobbed. "...why is this happening to us?! I don't understand it! It's like the world is just falling apart around us, and I can't do a damn thing to stop it!"

"I know, I know." Asami kissed her head and stroked her hair. "Everything's going to be all right. We'll find a way to fix everything. It wasn't so long ago that you felt like this, remember?"

"Yeah." She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "The, uhm, the prison system. You fixed that." She clenched her eyes shut and held Asami tighter. "But nobody we loved had to die for that."

"No. They didn't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'd be really difficult to figure this out unless you had Spirit Bombs on your mind, but Zaofu was essentially destroyed by a spirit weapon detonation in this timeline. Platinum acts as lead does in this universe, which is canon, so the domes themselves were still mostly intact. The bodies were vaporized, like nukes. I'm saying this now because I don't know if I'll have a chance to address it a bit more directly later. Also, thejmpr says that being underground is SUPER HOT.
> 
> Opal didn't create the sound of Baatar's voice. She just moved it. She has no idea what Baatar said, but she didn't need to. The shock of hearing Baatar right behind her is more than enough for Kuvira to flip, because he's in a combat zone. And he's not a combatant.
> 
> As always, any and all feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated. No matter how random, scathing, curious, or rambling your thoughts may be, I want to hear 'em. :) But, for this story specifically, let me know what you caught on to! There's a metric fuckton of STUFF in this, so lay it on me! Otherwise, I'll have no idea if I did it right.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on tumblr, if you're so inclined: progmanx.tumblr.com


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